Dreams
by Rothalion
Summary: Auoron tells a bit of his past to Jecht, stuff that Braska is even unaware of.


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TITLE: Dreams AUTHOR: Rothalion RATING: PG -13 violence and rape. Although not described. SUMMARY: Pre-game. Auron reveals a bit about his childhood that Braska is even unaware of. Will probably be incorporated into a larger study of Auron's childhood at a later date in one form or another. Hence this may not be the final form of this tale. GENERE: Angst DISCLAIMER: Square owns 'em, it's fun to borrow 'em.  
  
Comments also too, PLEASE: rothalion @hot mail .com. Am I alone out here?  
  
DREAMS  
  
Chapter 1  
  
"What do you think he dreams about?" Jecht asked Braska as they sat around the fire. They had visited the Farplane three days ago and were resting before heading across The Thunder Plains. The air was crisp and clear and only the crackle of the camp fire broke the sweet silence of the night.  
  
"I don't know Jecht. I do not think that Auron has ever mentioned his dreams to me. Yes, he has a nightmare on occasion; fiends, battles and the like but dreams," Braska shook his head " I do not recall him ever discussing them."  
  
"Everyone dreams Braska, ya mean to tell me that in 15 years he never once told ya about a dream." The summoner shrugged.  
  
"No. He has never even really discussed the nightmares with me." Braska looked across the fire at his sleeping guardian. "No, Jecht I am afraid that I have no idea. Auron's a very private person."  
  
"Strange. As close as you two are you'd think he would'a mentioned it." Braska sensed disappointment in Jecht's voice.  
  
"No. Why don't you ask him yourself." The summoner replied stretching and yawning.  
  
"Yea, right." the blitzer snorted. "like the tight lipped bastard'd tell ME anything!"  
  
"Well, Jecht, possibly, if you stopped taunting him and jabbing him with your words, he might actually stop being so defensive and open up to you."  
  
"Maybe. You'd better go to sleep Braska, or he'll have my ass in a sling for ya not getting enough rest."  
  
" Yes, I am tired. Goodnight Jecht."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Auron wasn't sure what had awakened him. He only knew that something was very near him as he slept. Without moving the young but seasoned warrior opened his eyes and tried to see what had disturbed him. Jecht. The man was sitting cross legged, less than two feet away from him staring down at his head.  
  
"Jecht."  
  
"Yea?"  
  
"'What are you doing?"  
  
"Watchin ya sleep." He answered as though it was the most natural thing in the world to do, watching people sleep.  
  
To Jecht, though, it was. He had loved to watch his wife sleep. He had fond memories of watching Tidus, his son, sleep; he'd often lain awake and watched his teammates sleep and lately, watching Auron sleep held his attention on the nights that he pulled guard duty before the younger man. Sleep fascinated him. He always had fantasic and surreal dreams, often waking invigorated and giddy. But Auron. Nearly every night the man dreamed; tossing, turning, moaning and often hollering out, it aroused Jecht's curiosity. Sometimes a small smile even eased across the normally serious man's lips. Once, Auron had even laughed out loud, really laughed, causing Jecht to laugh along with him quietly in the darkness. Jecht wanted to know why. The younger guardian made a great subject for Jecht to study.  
  
Auron groaned and rolled onto his back throwing his right arm across his forehead with a sigh. The young man was tired, exhausted actually, he'd spent most of the day plundering around killing fiends for supplies; and Jecht's interruption annoyed him.  
  
"Why?" he hissed at the older man "Why, why, why? I am tired." Jecht shrugged.  
  
"Didn't mean to wake ya, only wanted to watch ya."  
  
"You should be watching for fiends!" Auron scolded the blitzer, in a hoarse whisper "'NOT, watching me sleep!"  
  
Jecht, undetered by the upbraiding continued to stare down at Auron. The younger man's eyes had closed and Jecht wondered if he could be asleep again already.  
  
"Hey, Auron? Whata ya dream about?"  
  
The question was so innocently voiced that Auron could not find it in himself to be completely furious.  
  
"What? Dream? Yevon, Jecht, I don't know."  
  
"You must dream Auron. Damnit, I know ya dream. I've watched ya." Auron cringed inwardly at the thought.  
  
'Yevon, how long has he been watching me sleep. Since Bevelle? I tried to warn you about this one lord.'  
  
"Yes, but... I do not really know what." Auron had to admit, the man was right, he did dream but he paid little attention to them and it was rare for him to recall anything in the morning. Nightmares sometimes haunted him, often wrenching him from slumber, but dreams; he was pressed to recall one. After a time he sighed. Across the fire Braska listened feigning sleep, curious what the young man he'd raised from a child would answer, if he answered at all.  
  
"Well, what?" Jecht prodded impatiently, hunching foward further into Auron's already crowded space.  
  
" Fine." he began with a huff "Sometimes I dream of sailing. I am on a boat. The wind is blowing. The sails are full. The air...the air is... fresh...I...I feel... free." he trailed off lost in the memory of the dream.  
  
"Yea. Boats. I love em. I live, well lived on a boat in Zanara..." the blitzer paused. "If I could take you to Zanarakand I could take you sailing Auron! 'THAT, is something I know!"  
  
"It is too dangerous to go sailing in Spira simply for pleasure. Sin." Jecht rolled his eyes.  
  
"Why're ya always so damed negative Pup?"  
  
" I am a realist Jecht. Not negative." then hurriedly, "Sometimes I dream that I am running. Running and running. My legs do not seem able to hold me. I keep falling. Getting slower and slower until I am crawling..." Auron sighed "Agh, I hate that one. Frustrating. Flying, sometimes I dream I am flying... but men cannot fly."  
  
"In Zanarakand they do." Jecht chuckled.  
  
"Flying is forbidden Jecht." Auron corrected the blitzer. "It requires a Machine."  
  
"Ok, Pup maybe you'll convert me yet."  
  
Braska continued listening to the men talk, happy that for once the two were actually communicating; suprised by Auron's uncharacteristic openess, wondering what had precipitated it. He chuckled when Auron, once again, reminded Jecht of the ways of Yevon. The smile that crossed his lips slid quickly away, though, as Auron's next words reached his ears.  
  
"I dream of my father." the young man said, his voice low, pained.  
  
"You must miss him very much." Braska's heart skipped a beat and Jecht, unaware of all the details of Auron's history, was shocked at the icy glare that flashed in Auron's eyes.  
  
"S'not much to miss." the voice turned cold and tired "Sometimes I dream I am on his shoulders, we are laughing, walking in the surf, but that was 'only' a dream. I dream and I see his face. Twisted, angry, he is always screaming at me. I dream about fists. His fists pounding and pounding me. I dream...I dream of...of him... taking me. Raping me. I was 5. Then selling my body to the highest bidder each night so he could drink while they had their way with me. I dream of hunger. I dream of pain." he paused "I dreamt of, prayed for a ... a savior and my lord came to me and took me away."  
  
Braska began to quietly cry. He hadn't simply taken the battered, nearly unconscious ten year old child away, he'd purchased him. 1500 gil. Auron was never told of the hastily made transaction. It made sense now. In his naievte, Braska had never really considered why the boy was worth 50 gil a night. The summoner replayed the scene in his head.  
  
'He's worth 50 gil a night ta me, ya wanna save his sorry ass pay me  
his worth for a month.' and the man kicked the semiconcious boy in the  
stomach.  
  
Braska agreed. Paid and took the boy home.  
  
Jecht could only stare down at the man before him he. He would not have, in a thousand lifetimes, thought that Auron had come from such a cruel beginning, and he wondered why Auron had just told him about it. He was aware that Braska had taken Auron in, but that was all. He regreted his innocent question now, regreted causing the younger man pain.  
  
"Damn it Pup, I'm sorry. I...I didn't mean ta drag all that up. I...you must hate the bastard."  
  
"Yes. I suppose. Yes. He... hurt me." The guardian rolled onto his right side facing the fire "Even after all these years, I suppose... I do hate him."  
  
Jecht was silenced. He couldn't believe that Auron had divulged such personal information, and he was shocked at the vehemence, that while carefully controled, hid just beneath the surface of the warriors admission. His stomach twisted, recalling all the harsh and angry words he had thrown at his own young son. The blitzer ran a hand through his mop of hair and grimmaced. 'You're a bastard, Jecht.' he scolded himself 'you don't deserve to go home.' He saw a vision of Tidus tossing in his sleep from the demons he'd probably left his son with.  
  
"My kid probably hates my guts too. I was always screamin at him for one reason or another. Calling him names, ignoring him. Always drunk. Yea, I'm sure he'd just as soon want to kill me as look at me when, if, I see him again." He leaned foward again pulling Auron by his left shoulder so the younger man was once again on his back looking up at him. "Did you ever want to kill him Auron, your old man, ya know, for what he did?"  
  
Auron was silent. The question's directness kept him from slapping Jecht's hand off his shoulder where it lingered. The older man peered down into the dark eyes staring up at him in the light of the waning fire.  
  
"Yes. Yes, with every fiber of my being. My lord made me meditate on it but..."  
  
"But what?" Jecht leaned in close again.  
  
"I...I have have not been able to forgive my father his brutality."  
  
"So you hate him still and would kill him, still, after all these years?" he watched Auron's chest rise and fall with a great sigh, watched as his eyes squeezed shut.  
  
"Yes, though my lord would punish me and think me weak and callous for my hatred; yes, if I saw him tomorrow I would take my dagger, cut his throat before YU Yevon himself and not look back." He rolled again onto his side. "Goodnight, Jecht. Please stoke the fire. I do not wish my lord to be cold."  
  
Jecht stood slowly and began to walk away, then he stopped and turned kneeling down once again, near Auron's head. He reached out and pulled Auron's blanket up a bit tighter around the young guardians shoulders, then stroking the tired man's dark hair said, his voice hoarse with emotion,  
  
"Hey, Pup. You be sure and dream of sailing tonight. Sailing... without Sin." he swallowed hard, "Promise me."  
  
"Yes, Jecht, I promise." the sleepy voice replied. Jecht stood and turned away to retrieve more wood, glad for the darkness that hid his tears. He knew, if nothing else, the young man had a reputation for always keeping his word. Walking away again, Jecht decided not to wake the young guardian for his rotation of guard duty that night.  
  
Across the fire Braska, stifled his tears. The summoner had known about the hitting and kicking Auron's father had subjected him to, he'd seen it, they'd talked about it; but rape and being sold to strangers for sex...the gentle summoner had no knowledge of this and the new information shattered his heart. He closed his eyes, seeing behind them the battered child he'd taken in and healed in body, and had thought he'd healed in soul, all those years ago; bloody, cold, wet and nearly starved. Waiting for Jecht to clear the campsite, he rose quietly, and began to go to Auron. In the fire light he could see that his guardian's eyes were closed, his breathing even. 'Already he sleeps. He's exhausted. I will talk to him tomorrow.' and the Summoner laid back down and watched Auron sleep across the fire from him.  
  
The next morning, after a sleepless night. Braska waited for Auron to settle at the edge of the camp for his morning prayer and meditation. He approached quietly as the guardian bowed foward completeing his prayer.  
  
"Yes, my lord?" he remained still, relaxed, hands on his thighs, staring straight ahead. Braska knealt beside him.  
  
"You never told me."  
  
"No, my lord . I am sorry. You were listening?"  
  
"Yes. Not even about the dreams."  
  
"No, my lord." The reply was contrite, full of apology. He bowed his head, "I...I could not..."  
  
"Why, Auron? Did you think I would love you less?" Braska reached across and grasping Auron by his shoulders turned the man to face him.  
  
"Yes, my lord. Partly. I feared you would think me tainted and impure. Not worthy."  
  
"and the other part?" he reached out putting a soft hand beneath Auron's chin and raised the young man's head. Dark, sad eyes studied the gentle Summoner's face.  
  
"I...I love you. Loved you. When you were bathing me, healing me, cleansing my wounds that night, I looked up at you. You were crying. Crying... for me. I swore to never make you cry again." he took a deep breath and continued, "In the morning, I awoke. A pillow, blankets, a mattress. I had never, in my life, felt anything so, so soft against my skin. The sheets, your hands...Then you came into the room. You sat on the edge of the bed. I could smell you. Just as you smell today. Jasmine. You leaned across me to open the curtain and your hair brushed my cheek. 'What is your name child?' you asked. Your voice as soft as the bed, as soft as your touch," he paused as though a lost memory had come alive again, "Lord, I had no name." Auron furrowed his brow at the memory. "I could never hurt you, by telling you more, lord, you saved me. How could I?" Braska was confused.  
  
"No name. How can that be?" The Summoner was thrown by this added revelation. The young man before him closed his eyes in further remembrance.  
  
"My mother died when I was born, My father... out of hate, grief," he shrugged "never named me."  
  
"Then how did you come to be called Auron?"  
  
"Lord?" The dark eyes were pleading now, "This is too much...at once. Last night, now this... Please. I..."  
  
"Auron, please. 15 years. Please. There was no need for you to face this alone."  
  
"One night, just days before you found me, my sixth... customer... that night, a big man in a great, red, hooded cloak paid my father 30 gil for my... services. Three times the normal cost. We went to his room. He ordered me to sit on the bed. He had a beautiful sword lord, and the greenest eyes. 'Stay. I will return.' he told me. After a time he returned with a plate of food, and milk. 'Eat. Drink' he commanded, and he sat on the floor across the room from me and removed the hood. Lord, he was... a true warrior, beautiful. His face, strong and wise. His hair as black as the night. Just as I finished eating he crossed to me, knealt and gave me 50 gil. Then he placed a small pouch on a leather tie around my neck, and tucked it inside my shirt." Auron absently reached up and fingered the pouch at his throat. Braska knew the pouch, Auron had never been without it, although the summoner had no idea what was in it. " 'The window. Go to the temple, they will take you in. Keep the pouch with you always.' He stood and walked towards the door. I asked him his name. He said 'Auron'. My father had spies, caught me, I did not make it to the temple. Lord when you asked my name... I chose... Auron... and swore to never disgrace him."  
  
Braska studied him. Trying to understand all the complexities of his guardian. The man was so wise for his age. A masterful tactician, an incredible swordsman and more devout in his belief in the church than the Summoner was comfortable with. For 15 years he'd concealed this part of his life, suffered through it alone, not wanting to hurt Braska, even though he was still plagued with nightmares born of the abuse. Yet, last night he'd let the tale out. So simply, without hesitation to... Jecht. To the Summoner it made no sense. Why would the normally closed and private warrior suddenly speak of these memories.  
  
"Auron, why last night? Why Jecht." The dark head bowed down once again. As Braska watched, Auron's breathing sped up and he began to fidget once again with the pouch at his neck. "Auron, why? Why now?"  
  
"He... is not in the Farplane lord."  
  
"Auron, the man in the cloak?" he again lifted the younger man's chin. "Who?"  
  
"No, my father." The dark eyes betrayed his fear. "I ... somehow... I always figured him to be dead, lord. He... is not."  
  
"Possibly, he was not sent." Braska replied in an attempt to boister Auron's spirit. The look on Auron's face said that he hadn't. He was afraid.  
  
"Maybe. Auron... is not there either."  
  
"When did you go to Farplane? You did not go in with me?"  
  
"In the night, lord alone."  
  
"I see." Braska touched Auron's cheek, "You could have told me, so much pain, for so many years, I 'wish' you would have told me."  
  
"No, lord you would have spurned me. Don't you see? I was filth, how...you might have cast me away."  
  
"Yevon, Auron no. You should have, could have told me. I could have..."  
  
"What lord? what?!" Auron sighed "You... I dreamt, and prayed to Yevon for you, and you came. You saved me. Took me away. I was so grateful lord. I...I wanted to spare you my pain."  
  
Braska had nothing to say. Spare HIM. He wanted to grab his guardian, his foster son, into his arms and hold him. He wanted to take away ALL the pain Auron had suffered alone that Braska had been unaware of. He...  
  
"Auron, come her, just come here." Auron closed the distance between them and Braska took his guardian in his arms and held him. Held him tight.  
  
"Ah, Auron, I love you. I always have, and always will, and my dream for you is to have that boat, to be able to sail in a world free, without Sin. I will make that happen. For you, and for Yuna, for Spira." Auron shuddered at the promise. A world without Sin...would mean a world without his lord.  
  
Note: All and reviews would be appreciated. If it sucks say so. If not say so. If for some some reason I'm not getting them...try to say so. What does a person need to do to get a reaction? 


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